


Close Your Eyes

by endlessnepenthe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (no sex here! seriously just look at the rating), Body Worship, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Temperature Play, there's some nudity but that's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25598638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlessnepenthe/pseuds/endlessnepenthe
Summary: “Will I need a blindfold, or will you keep your eyes shut?”“I’ll… I’ll be good.”Or, Castiel hears Dean complain one time too many about the heat and decides to grant him relief.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	Close Your Eyes

Dean groans — deep, long, and  _ loud, _ dragging the sound into a whine.

Castiel has to hold his breath and grit his teeth to avoid snapping an irritated  _ shut up Dean, complaining isn’t going to lower the temperature _ in response, glaring up at the novel he’s holding open above his head.

Their old air conditioning had stuttered to a halt earlier that afternoon — apparently as overwhelmed by the heat wave as, well, pretty much everyone and everything else — and the earliest they could get anyone to come by was the next morning. The fan they have isn’t really helping. It circulates slightly chilled air around the room, heavy heat suffocating both Dean and Castiel enough to drive them to the cooler hardwood flooring. But even the floor is only a temporary relief, a fact made evident by Dean’s near constant and quite vocal complaints.

“It’s so  _ hottt. _ Cas, I’m melting…”

Enough’s enough. He’s been subjected to Dean’s whining for several hours already, and Castiel’s running dangerously low on patience.

“We can’t have that happening, can we,” Castiel says with deceptive calm, shutting his book. He doesn’t bother to hide the edge of steel in his tone. “Put down a towel and get undressed, please.”

Castiel leaves the room before Dean manages to string together any coherent words in protest. It’s an obvious test, and Castiel’s looking forward to finding out how well Dean will perform.

He spends a few minutes longer than strictly necessary in the kitchen. Not to be cruel, but to tease both himself and Dean; some anticipation is good, not to mention how it’ll teach Dean a little something about patience.

When Castiel returns, silent on bare feet, he’s greeted by a wonderful surprise. Dean’s on his stomach, arms shoved beneath a pillow, their largest and thickest towel doubled up below his sprawled out, naked body.

“Dean,” Castiel purrs, watching hungrily as the muscles of Dean’s back ripple with his shiver. Although Castiel hadn’t even suggested it, Dean doesn’t look up, holding himself still even as tension coils under his beautifully freckled skin.

Smiling, Castiel moves to the bed, sliding his fingers into Dean’s hair. “Will I need a blindfold, or will you keep your eyes shut?”

Dean’s breath catches in his chest. “I’ll…” He exhales shakily into the pillow. “I’ll be good.”

As he climbs onto the bed, Castiel hums, warm and pleased. Throwing a leg over both of Dean’s, he carefully straddles delicately bowed thighs, bending forward to press a kiss to the space between Dean’s shoulder blades. “So good for me,” Castiel praises, just to hear Dean’s soft whine.

He doesn’t want to overwhelm Dean, so Castiel pops the first ice cube into his mouth, holding it on his tongue until the edges melt. Still pinned, Dean shifts his weight almost nervously — oh, he might’ve heard the ice tap against Castiel’s teeth — and Castiel rests a hand in the center of Dean’s back, simultaneously reassuring and a warning. Dean settles, but there’s anxiety in the tense line of his spine.

Castiel has to tread carefully. Dean is being so  _ good _ for Castiel, and Castiel knows having limited vision kicks all the other senses straight into overdrive.

Frozen cube tucked behind his teeth, Castiel plants the first cold kiss on Dean’s shoulder blade. Dean stiffens, muscles locking. Castiel shifts the ice aside in his mouth to blow chilled air across the little bit of water he’d left behind on Dean’s skin, and once he does, Dean breathes a helpless, surprised groan. It’s not an unhappy sound, so Castiel takes it as a green light and repeats the process to Dean’s other shoulder blade.

By the time Castiel’s halfway down his spine, Dean's gone boneless, his face turned so his cheek is pressed into the pillow. His eyes are still firmly shut. Chuckling quietly, Castiel presses the tiny sliver of ice to Dean’s skin, sliding it down to the curve of his spine. Dean doesn’t react.

Maybe it’s time to get rid of the training wheels, then.

The second ice cube still goes into Castiel’s mouth, but this time, he ducks down to touch one side to Dean’s back; Dean shivers with a cut off whine and Castiel immediately pulls back.

“Okay?”

“Yeah—  _ Yes,” _ Dean gasps,  _ “kiss me.” _

Lips curving upward, Castiel obeys. His smile only widens when Dean props himself up on an elbow — blinking glazed green eyes open for a second to make sure he isn’t blindly fumbling — and twists his upper body to cradle Castiel’s face with one hand, leaning forward to press their lips together. Castiel yields easily to Dean’s insistent tongue, swallowing Dean’s low moan when he encounters the ice. Between their combined heat, the frozen cube melts faster, fat droplets of water spilling down their chins.

Castiel ends up nudging the rapidly melting cube into Dean’s mouth, kissing the corners of his lips as Dean bites through the ice and crunches the pieces between his teeth.

“Better? Are you still melting,” Castiel teases.

Eyes closed, Dean swallows, bumping their foreheads together. “For a whole ‘nother reason,” he drawls, projected confidence sabotaged by the deep, rough rasp of his voice.

Castiel hums thoughtfully, bestowing Dean with one more kiss to his lips before spreading a hand between his shoulder blades.

Dean goes down at the first hint of pressure without protest, nuzzling the pillow as he searches for a comfortable position.

“Mm.” Castiel nips at Dean’s jaw.  _ “Very good,” _ he purrs, ridiculously delighted when a whimper claws its way up Dean’s throat,  _ “Dean.” _

_ “Cas—!” _

Leaning back right away, Castiel rests his hands on his own thighs. “I overstepped,” he says, quiet but clear, “my apologies.” Dean shakes his head, the movement so minute Castiel’s afraid he might have imagined it. “May I… touch you?”

A muscle in Dean’s jaw jumps and he squeezes his eyes shut tighter, but his nod is firm and resolute. Relieved beyond words, Castiel noses gently under Dean’s jaw, trailing soft kisses down the side of his neck. Dean’s forgiveness is a tiny, precious thing; he shifts, subtly baring more of his neck to Castiel, heartbeat pounding strong under Castiel’s mouth.

The next dozen or so minutes finds Castiel scattering chaste kisses along the constellations of freckles dotting Dean’s shoulders and back until the muscles gradually relax. Most of the ice has melted, a little mound of resilient pieces sitting in the center of the container surrounded by a moat of cold water.

Castiel leaves a last fleeting kiss to the small of Dean’s back before slipping off the bed to relocate the ice — mostly water, really — in front of their fan. Hopefully, the fan will direct the coolness from the ice to the general air of the room and lower the temperature. Even half a degree would be a blessing.

Only then does Castiel realize it’s been quite some time since Dean’s moved. Sure enough, when he pads back to the bed, Castiel finds Dean’s face has fallen slack, his chest rising and falling slowly in the cadence of sleep. His face is smushed awkwardly against the pillow and he'll definitely grumble about his arms aching when he wakes— But for now, Dean seems to be at peace. And that alone, makes everything worth it.

Picking up his novel, Castiel leans back against the frame of their bed. They still don’t have air conditioning and the heat is horrible, but Castiel focuses on Dean’s breathing and the steady rhythm brings him some much needed calm.

Maybe it’s not so bad after all.

Besides, they could always have a cold shower when Dean wakes.


End file.
